


Warm Plating

by FoxyTurttle



Series: Warm Plating: Lifeguard [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Desperate Sex, M/M, Prison, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-02-06 14:37:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1861572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxyTurttle/pseuds/FoxyTurttle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snare needs something to make him feel something else than this hopelessness.<br/>Set a little before the events of Last Stand of the Wreckers. Can be Sticky, Plug-and-Play or Tactile, read as you will.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warm Plating

**Author's Note:**

> Just received my hardcover copy of Last Stand of the Wreckers and decided to re-read the comic before getting on the new materials.  
> I was intrigued by the "It's me - Snare" which almost sounded as if him and Impactor had talked before. This was spawned.

It was all out of desperation.

"A-ah!"

The pit fights, the executions, the hunting parties... of one side or the other.

"Ngh!"

It was all getting too much and he needed an outlet.

"Ha-harder!"

Actually, not really an outlet.

"Don't stop!"

More like something to make him feel something else than this hopelessness.

"Ah, yes!"

Something to make him feel _alive_.

"Oh! Oh! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-humph!"

"Will you fragging pipe down!", the Autobot hissed in his audio.

' _Fragging. Eh._ '

It never ceased to amaze Snare how easy it was to laugh at one's situation. Even as dour as theirs. Or maybe it was just a defense mechanism: something to prevent yourself from going mad...

' _Not sure how well that worked out for me..._ ', the Decepticon bitterly mused from his position under Impactor. ' _Sure looks like I lost my mind here._ '

He still wasn't sure how he got himself entangled with the Wrecker in the first place. He'd brougt him back to his cell after a particularly nasty bout of torture.

_"Patch him up a bit, will you? I don't want to lose such a fun toy."_

Ah, right. Anti-transformation harness on Freeze mode, he had thought he was safe to perform first aid on the prisoner. 

_Worn metal, strong hands, a warrior's body._

He couldn't have been more wrong.

_Warm plating._

Funny how it's the little details that get you. He'd been in countless battles, walked over numerous corpses but it had never bothered him until then. Until he reached for that warm plating and thought off all those cold ones littering the planet.

_Reaching out for that warmth. A sound of surprise._

Suddenly this Autobot, this prisoner, wasn't one anymore. He was another Cybertronian, a _living_ Cybertronian, and the Decepticon found himself needing that life closer to him. Even if it killed him.

_Deactivating Freeze mode. Clinging to the Autobot - to Impactor -, completely at his mercy. Not caring._

Snare remembered thinking that Autobots and Decepticons maybe weren't that different after all as, far from killing him, the Wrecker indulged him.

_Finding his world turned upside down. His back pressed to the floor. Never a space between them._

Rough. Needy. _Desperate._

He had let himself sink into the sensations bestowed on him so readily. Focused on nothing else but the cramped space of the cell. Not caring anymore about the outside world. 

Looked like his partner in crime hadn't followed suite.

"Listen, I like a vocal partner like the next mech, but I'm not so sure your buddies would really approve", was whispered in his neck. Snare thought it nearly sounded apologetic. He briefly wondered if it was for interrrupting his overload or for making them aknowledge the illicit nature of their tryst.

The Decepticon decided he didn't care for it.

The hands that were griping Impactor's shoulders trailed a path down the Autobot's spine, working their way to his aft while working back to the mood again. His legs tighten their grip on the waist they are circling. Snare refused to be denied what little solace he could get.

A shiver. Ever so slowly the building up of pleasure resumed.

"W-what's your name?", was gasped right into his audio.

_'What kind of question is that?'_ , was said privately. Still, Impactor had indulged him, might as well respond in kind.

"Snare."

A snort.

"Kinda fitting."

Snare was still amazed by how easy it was to laugh back.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: I've actually shipped those two since I first read Last Stand of the Wreckers a couple years back. Pretty hard, might I add.  
> I just got the inspiration to actually write something today.


End file.
